


Aftermath

by AlleiraDayne



Series: Instead of Going to Bed DAI Verse [13]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Ableism, Angst, Children, F/M, Fluff, Health Issues, PTSD, Trespasser DLC, loss of limb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-13
Updated: 2016-06-13
Packaged: 2018-07-14 22:16:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7193033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlleiraDayne/pseuds/AlleiraDayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Amallia and Cullen watch over their children as they play.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> Been going through some rough shit IRL, husbando is ill and was in pretty bad shape a few weeks ago. Wrote this to get it out of my head.

“They’re like night and day.”

Of course they were, she thought. They were sisters and that was how sisters worked. That was how  _siblings_ worked. Put the two of them in a room and one would entertain herself by making it up and the other would find a toy. Abstract and concrete. Negative and positive. Light and dark.

“The question is,” Cullen started as he stood from his large chair, “which one is night and which one is day?”

Amallia grinned a crooked grin as she turned back to the girls. Aiofe was playing with blocks, constructing a marvelous tower that was quite sturdy despite the lack of a foundation. Wider at the base, it narrowed towards the top. An acute eye for design and structure she had.

Kahlan lay on her back, her eyes wide as they searched the room, babbling and singing to herself. And then she reached, stretching with all her infant might, attempting to roll over towards her sister. Almost. So close, she made it to her side, but fell back with a frustrated grunt.

“Easy,” Amallia muttered. “Aiofe is night and Kahlan is day. Not a doubt in my mind.”

“You think the blonde is a creature of the night?” he asked as he watched them, smile curious and eyes scrutinizing.

“Absolutely,” she replied, stroking through Aiofe’s soft waves. “She’s … cautious. Calculating. Meticulous.” Amallia turned to Kahlan and coiled a black curl around her index finger. “Kahlan is fearless. Bold. Definitely a child of the sun. She crawls towards light whenever I put her down. Not the door or the window. The light on the floor. She might be more closely related to Oscar than any of us,” she said with a laugh as she pointed to their cat, his enormous orange body sprawled on is belly in the sunspot of a nearby window.

Cullen laughed a short chuckle as he rounded to her right and sat beside her. He did that; the motion was rote. He rarely stood or sat to her left. Always the right, where there was a hand to hold. What was left of her other arm was never found wanting for attention, though. The stump never turned him away.

And yet, when he went to take her hand in his, she shifted, grasping at the other shoulder.  _That_  was rote as well, a habit borne out of embarrassment, disgust, sadness. Three years gone and she thought she’d be used to it by now, learning everything over again, every move, every grasp, every hug, every hold. But she caught herself on a daily basis reaching out with both arms, only to recoil in disgust at the last second.

Cullen shifted behind her, hands and knees brushing the floor as he crawled, then planted himself on her left, a soft smile on his lips. His fingers pried at hers, lifting them away as the other wrapped behind her waist and grasped her hand. Warmth flooded her from the shoulder of her maimed limb down to the toes in her boots, his massive hand rolling the tense muscles.

“We’ll figure it out,” he whispered. “I promise.”

Stinging tears blurred her vision as she stared at their little girls, unable to face him. “How? There’s …” she paused with a sob, “there’s so much I don’t know.”

A soft squeeze at her hip reassured her, hugging her close.

“Together.”


End file.
